John Wick: Chapter 3 - Parabellum
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Hemsworth is still carrying that goofy confidence in his body language and Thompson, her new state of bloated coolness, the suit suits, the job doesn't.
Men In Black: International
F. Gary Gray, I thought, usually is the guy to carry on franchises with equal respect as they start on with. If not increase the hype but will surely continue the momentum of the chase that drives the fans to cinema. Of course, these are all hypothetical thoughts you wander before going on in this cash grab chapter of a popular franchise that lately has been struggling aplenty in order to be politically correct, compromising both quality and the agenda that births that whole drama; ironic, right! Now, before I go through train of various disappointing elements, let me point out the primary and the surprising one.
The visual effects and physical sequences- the one thing these big banner film thrives for- are practically straight out wrong, as in they have somehow forgot to account in the distance and time factor in doing so; from showcasing a vehicle zooming, to a creature in a jetpack boosting off, it is odd and uncomfortable to swallow all. And on the other hand, the best asset is the creativity on how varied number of creatures are presented, these tiny aspects keep giving us hope in this overlong two hours of journey- basically a slow death.
The storytelling mostly follows the Copy-Paste system from other passable buddy cop films which to be frank isn't done properly, ergo, the result is worse than that. The antics, nothing but loud bangs, the jokes, desperate attempts for cheap shot and emotions, fairly shallow. The only character that you are going to look forward to, is Kumail Nanjiani's voicing as Pawny whose affirmatively positive comments are flat out hilarious. Men In Black: International, the name gives it all away, from the locations to the transparency of the characters, I mean still holding on to their obvious hidden card, is not actually arrogant but simply ignorant.
Marx is the best asset, the highlight of the show, we know it, they knew it, hence the celebration of his talent.
A Night At The Opera
Wood feels more like directing some sketch show. There is a lot of empathy visible in the hard work that goes in, on creating the various sketchy scenarios. But when it comes to stage a musical- exception being the piano sequence played around a bunch of kids. But I'd argue that even in that scene, the depth comes from the comic timing that displays this two sides of the characters subsequently- or relevantly moisturize the film with emotional drama, the director, Sam Wood feels like he is leaving those patches out to dry. With gags aplenty, even he knew that this is his strength and he should focus on it- the transaction to what is in paper and then what comes on screen, is sheer brilliance.
And I think that is the only thing that holds up with time. For almost a century later, the jokes are tend to not age well and feel a bit overridden by now. But once again, I'd say it is the confidence. Take the scene where they are literally trying to manipulate a man on convincing that he is in the wrong hotel room. The choreography is so smooth and polished with actors performing tasks quickly and with a hilarious body language, that you are left in awe.
Now as much as easy this was easy on paper, it was incredibly difficult to pull off. And as much as I loved and adored that scene. I would go back one act more to define A Night At The Opera. The obvious infamous scene where the physical comedy is practically turned to 11. His small hotel room gets crowded scene by scene and all the actors performing their bits with commitment, no matter whether they are part of the action or not, proves the most difficult task of an actor i.e. to make the audience laugh.
Rohmer is confident in his handful of characters so much, that he'd rather focus on the environment- if not on them- than investing on other distractions.
Pauline At The Beach
Rohmer is.. just perfect. I couldn't come up with any other adjective to describe him and his film. The writer and director, Eric Rohmer, is whispering something pure than you cannot anticipate. After the electric shock that the film zinged me with, I have never, then, tried to know about the film before jumping in. Just discovering the absurdity and the genuinity of the storytelling as it unfolds in front of your eyes, is half the fun. Take the word and jump for it, no matter of what genre you think you belong to, there is every single type of appetiser for you. And the one that catches you off guard the most is the horror aspect of the storytelling.
Similar to James Ivory's picturization- I got the recommendation itself like that, it is a sort of film that Ivory would invest on- the film is easy to look at. With stunning live location coming alive on the screen and the fresh air blown in your face, the film stays breezy, even though derailing aplenty, grabbing other genre coins, in this big beautiful marathon. And a script that often looks like a part of some play, the philosophical conversations, if goes of preaching-to-the-choir tone, it is definitely intended.
That deliberate amateurish-ness and finiteness of each character's views, is what draws me. Never for a second, Rohmer wishes the film to grows beyond a film. The profound theories that they blab about is overpowered with a towering mesmerising method of his. Another smart trick he invests on, is placing the cameras in a specific place while projecting one definite location. This repetitive nature in his camera work allows us to feel like our home town. The roads, the balcony, the room and the house, we do get to spend a summer vacation in there along with Pauline At The Beach.
A coming-of-age film with a coming-of-change in the generation, adapt it slowly, like baby steps.
Ivory has actually been to this road. And he will also receive an Oscar in future for an adaptation like such of Call Me By Your Name. The co-writer and director, James Ivory has walked on this same path, with only few changes and few turns taken differently. A brilliant piece of artistry that sculpts a strong resonant relationship in its first act, only to shift into the opposite direction that may or may not join the track but will surely tangle into each other vigorously. That's right, a film with such a pleasant bright colors brimmed across the frame, does get shook untidily in those last moments.
Or maybe, they are still pretending in their well-pressed poised suits and just their diffident nature on expressing their views, for almost two hours has tamed us to be frightened of even long silences. Through James Ivory's I see it and the cinema doesn't get better than this. Watch him create arc by using known mandatory content that we use in everyday of our lives and never actually notice it in such a way up till now. That's why I have loved Ivory's world so much, a teapot grows elegant and emotions weigh incredibly in your perspective, you leave the screen with an awe and his opinion in your mind.
Everything is in slow motion, everything waiting for you to be enjoyed. Hugh Grant as the lead has got the least leader-esque role and yet confused to the core, he walks or fumbles with genuine warmth despite of reaping questionable looks from us. James Wilby, on the other hand, has quite an empathetic cloak to put on, the mistakes are part of his character and peace, the cake he deserves. His paranoid impulsion is the key in understanding him, he will ask you about loads of things, Maurice, and will only account in the little guy living inside him, poking perpetually, turns out he is a good guy.
The dark side of the Marvel, the black hole, where even the fans won't return satisfied.
Kinberg, at a certain point, could be forgiven. I can see him pitching the idea enthusiastically and even getting the equal reaction back. He is, first and foremost, a writer. And he, the writer and director, Simon Kinberg, therefore, surely knows on what frame to finish the film. That very piece of note flying about, the whole point gets checked off metaphorically, in those last moments. But we are getting ahead of ourselves and we are exaggerating. For beyond that very frame- surprisingly for a movie of this genre- I didn't buy a singly word of the film. It is the probably of the shortest runtime and yet the most time-consuming one. The previous chapter, Apocalypse, did make me think that maybe we've had too much of superhero films. But I resisted.
Clearing out my doubts, this time, the franchise is back with another irrelevant chapter; after Days Of Future Past, everything seems like a desperate pursuit for big box office collection. I would say, that this is the olden days in rom-com genre where we are suffocated by CGI explosions, even the summer schedule at the theatre is congested. And, this is the Kate Hudson rom-com that no one asked for.
In terms of comic book films, it is equivalent to Clooney's version of Batman, or current DC; pick your choice. Tomfoolery is an unintentional by product; obviously, and if not, than this is gold. The promising concept was James McAvoy's track, that too, only in the beginning, where you see him as a fully fledged egoistic leader, which later on, is crushed on by super super elements that weighs zero credibility in the narration. The only question that this so called sci-fi film asks, is why did they name it Dark Phoenix? It is not likely to be, but if another chapter does comes up, I'd recommend X-Men Mistake.. oh no, Dark Mistake- it gives that intense feeling.